


Training

by Quiet_Shadow



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Friendship, Gen, Ninja
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:38:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-series. Despite everything that happened on Earth, Bumblebee isn't considered ready enough to enter the Elite Guard. No matter, the yellow 'bot has other plans, like, you know, learning some fancy ninja moves. It would have been perfect if the teacher had been Prowl...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Training

**Author's Note:**

> A short story based on a recurring desire to see Bumblebee as a ninja.  
> Hope you'll like!

Dodging the strike wasn’t hard; he had seen it coming even before his adversary had even made the move. He just twisted his body out of the way, dodging under the arm and trying a palm strike against the dark plates of the enemy’s abdomen. But his own attack missed, the other mech taking a step back, having read his intentions too.

Time for a change of plan. Quickly, he let himself drop to the floor, left hand flat on the ground as he shifted his hips and his body weight, bringing his legs at the utmost speed he could manage to kick his adversary in the ankle joints.

Once again, it missed. The other mech jumping high and farther back. As the smaller mech tried to stand up again, he was grabbed by the wrist, lifted, and sent over a white shoulder quite easily. He yelped as he crashed onto the floor with a loud ‘clank’.

Fuming, he swore, making his adversary snort.

“Language, Bumblebee my mech!”

Bumblebee pouted as he went back to his feet and gave Jazz a dejected look. “I never manage to get a hit on you…”

Jazz smiled at him ruefully. “Give it time, my mech. You’re doing good, you know. You’re a fast learner and it shows. A few orns ago, you wouldn’t even have been able to dodge one of my attacks. Now you do just fine.”

“Yeah, and I still manage to end on my aft most of the time,” he muttered unhappily, gently massaging that part of his anatomy. Jazz chuckled a bit.

“We all went through this, lil ‘bot. Why, even Prowl got his aft handed to him for sure, with Master Yoketron…”

There was a silence, as both mech pondered.

“So… you’re sure it doesn’t bother you? Training me, I mean?” asked Bumblebee uncertainly. “I know you’re not supposed to, since you’re not the dojo master, and though I’m grateful for the help, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble because of me…” he trailed off as Jazz motioned for him to shut up.

“Don’t worry about anything, my mech. We don’t get enough cyberninjas anymore, and Dai Atlas can’t train all the hopefuls himself, you know. Besides, I want to do it for you. In memory of Prowl,” he finished with a solemn look.

Bumblebee looked down.

Coming back to Cybertron had made him realize something important, if he really wanted to become part of the Elite, his old dream.

The Elite Guard wouldn’t accept him like that: not when he was just a substandard frame, with no qualification asides of a few vorns on a Space Bridge repair crew. Never mind the fact he’d faced more Decepticons than most of the actual Elite.

Quite simply, he was… too ordinary. Having good scores and a hero reputation wasn’t enough. You also had to have an asset. Jazz had his cyberninja training, Blurr had his speed, and Cliffjumper was rumored to be quite the sniper… All Elite Guard mechs had a specialization; something that set them apart and above the common ‘bots. Bumblebee sometimes wondered what Sentinel’s own asset was, aside from being a sore loser and having an arrogant nature. Jerk…

For all his bickering with Prowl, Bumblebee had really admired the way the older ‘bot fought. Once or twice, he had entertained the idea to ask Prowl to train him. Just a bit. Teach him some fancy moves to dazzle the enemy. Surely, Prowl could do this for a teammate and friend, right?

But Bumblebee never got the chance to ask. There always was something else that came on, and any thought about copying Prowl’s moves was soon pushed aside to deal with more pressing matters. Namely Megatron, Lugnut, Starscream and his remake of the Clone Cars,…

Had things be different, it would have been the black and gold mech here with him, instructing him on how and where to kick, and on how to meditate to clear his processor. Bumblebee wouldn’t have minded (well, not too much), because it would have meant Prowl was alive.

But Prowl was dead.

He would never train Bumblebee. The little yellow mech would never join the Elite like he had wanted to. But he had, strangely enough, not minded so much. Not when it meant he could stay with Prime, Ratchet and Bulkhead, Sari and even the pretty pink femme Ratchet had a crush on…

Still, sometimes it stung, Prowl’s absence. Once or twice, Bumblebee had tried to move through a half-remembered kata the older mech had practiced very often, and to his surprise, he had gotten it mostly right. Or at least, Jazz had pretended so, when he saw him doing it.

Jazz wasn’t exactly impressed, really, but he was approving of Bumblebee’s efforts to better himself. They talked about the yellow ‘bot motivations and Bumblebee had come to understand something important about himself. He had realized he would not leave Prime anymore, for anything. To the Pit with the Elite Guard; he had already proved to himself he was as strong as one, so what if nobody else acknowledged that? But he still wanted to learn more about Prowl’s fighting style. To become stronger, for his team’s sake.

So, when Jazz had stepped in and offered to give him some training, and perhaps make a true cyberninja out of him, Bumblebee had accepted, spark heavy with both joy and grief. Joy he would learn. Grief it would never be the teacher he would have sought.

“Do you think… Prowl would have been proud of me?” he asked the cyberninja, who now sat cross-legged on the floor next to him.

Jazz smiled gently at him. “Can’t say for sure, because I didn’t know him long enough, but I’m sure he would have been glad you at least tried to, lil’ Bee.”


End file.
